


KillShot, It's A Matter of Finesse

by maryjo24



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: BDSM, Comment Fic, Dom/sub, M/M, Serial Killers, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryjo24/pseuds/maryjo24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two psychopathic hunters of human prey, a vengeful crime lord, and a mislaid compromising sex tape - this can't end well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	KillShot, It's A Matter of Finesse

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to evileve18's [original prompt](http://transfixeddream.livejournal.com/94194.html?thread=2190066#t2190066) on transfixeddream's Working Hard for the Money comment fic meme.

“Dammit all to hell Jay, I told you not to take the kill shot!” Jensen barked, his heavy boot kicking at the lifeless body. He glared at the taller man strolling into the clearing, his arms hanging off the rifle laid across broad shoulders.

“This,” his gun pointing at the blackened hole in the naked teen’s forehead, “Is a fucking kill shot.”

“Sorry Jen, I was bored. The stupid shit was barely movin’ anymore, I was fallin’ asleep from chasing after him so slow. I’m really, really sorry but ya’ understand, right?” Jared’s whining words offer up an apology but the shit-eating grin flashed between seemingly innocent dimples belie the honesty of the sentiment. Long, graceful fingers brush wavy brown hair back off his forehead, as he continues digging his figurative grave.

“Besides, did you see that shot? A thing of mother-fucking beauty, 200 yards easy and POW, he’s down!” Punctuating with a thrust of his fist as he bent down to check the shot, Jared whistled. “Damn, I got it right there, dead center. I.Am.Hot, HOT with a capital H! And seriously dude, he was pretty worn out, wouldn’t have lasted much longer anyway so I figured I’d just put him out of our misery. You should be thankin’ me” Jared grins wider, he knows how to play his lover, and knows how this night will end. He couldn’t fucking wait.

Jensen snorted in disgust, “No, you were just fucking showing off. Plenty of life left in him yet. Listen to what I’m trying to teach you, you need to learn how to draw it out and savor the fucking moment. Use some fucking finesse, asshole.”

Yeah, he knew Jay’s game, but he was more than happy to play it. Besides, Jay was right, the twink really had become a tedious bore, but that didn’t mean he’d let Jay off the hook easy, no, his lover will want it hard. Exactly how he wants to give it to him.

Drawing up close to Jared, Jensen grabbed the larger man’s jaw in his fist, thumb and forefinger lined up with the creases of his dimples, digging harshly, threatening to punch through. As Jared trembled with barely restrained excitement, Jensen leaned closer, full lips brushing against his ear, his voice whispering breathy caresses on the side of Jared’s face.

“And **I** wasn’t done with him, and now **I’m** pissed and extremely on edge, _someone’s_ gonna have to pay for that. Got any ideas who?” Slamming his other palm down on Jared’s rapidly hardening cock, Jensen left no doubts as to his intent as Jared twisted against the grip on his face, whimpering as an agonizing pain shot up from his groin.

“Yeah, Jay. I think it’s only fair you play my little slave boy now, since you took tonight’s entree off the menu. And when we get back to the house, I’ll remind you of what happens to disobedient slaves. Now haul your ass back to car and bring back the kit.” 

Nearly falling as Jensen shoved him away, Jared regained his balance quickly, and smirked at Jensen before turning to lope back to the car. Grabbing the kit, he hurried back and with an ease that comes from a horrifying amount of practice, the two men make short work of sanitizing the scene before turning to the body. Grimacing, Jared grabbed the bone saw from the kit and sliced through the skull, splitting it wide. Once a body’s cold, he has little interest in it, that’s more Jensen’s scene. But tonight he’s being punished so Jared knows this is expected of him. Cautiously avoiding the jagged edges of bone, his glove-clad fingers dig around and make short work of finding the bullet amidst brain soup. Pulling it out, he drops it and the saw into the large baggy Jensen holds open, followed by the first pair of gore-stained latex gloves that he rolls off, inside over the out, just as Jensen’s taught him. The second pair he rolls off and stuffs in his pocket.

Jensen reaches out for the bag of rock salt Jared pulls from the kit, trading him the gore filled baggy. Ripping it open, he tips the bag and reverently scatters the white crystals over the body from head to toe, paying special attention to the limp penis, covering the prostitute’s groin with a thick mound of the purifying substance. Bag emptied, Jensen takes the proffered can of gasoline and drenches the body. Stepping back, he solemnly savors the tableau. Taking a deep breath, he can almost discern the coppery tang of blood under the near-overwhelming scent of gas. The fluid-moistened salt now glimmers near translucent under the moonlight, the unfortunate teen’s face serenely framed by a salt halo. Breathing deeply, he passes the final act to Jared.

“Go ahead, Jay, your kill.” And then the body’s lit up, flames dancing and consuming the dead flesh. The two men watch, one in rapt attention and the other with patient indulgence, until it finally burns itself out. Left behind are the decimated, charred remains of a youth barely out of childhood, a boy abandoned long ago and who will be no more missed tomorrow than he had been in the past few years. 

Drawing a ragged breath, his face bright with his euphoric high, Jensen turns to Jared, remembering a time not that long ago, when he stood over his prey, alone, and that prey was the beautiful man that stands now by his side, his bodyguard, his partner, his everything.

_Stopping, listening, he hears the cracking of twigs and dried leaves off to the right as they’re crushed beneath bare, stumbling feet. This one has been absolutely exquisite, a challenge at every level, and has alluded capture for hours. He no longer regrets the impulse that made him snatch the man off the street, practically in broad daylight. Usually, he works at night, taking one of the many lost souls who live on the streets, offering themselves for whatever men like him are willing to pay and who are unlikely to create a blip on time’s line when they disappear. But when he saw this one as he trawled the strip for a new toy, he’d been struck with a sense of karmic influence._

_It had been a long time, but he recognized the man from a boy that had walked the streets years before. He’d considered taking him back then but before he got the chance, the boy managed to muscle his way up the underworld’s food chain and out of obscurity, no longer an inconsequential street whore. So, though Jensen didn’t realize it until this very moment, he’d just been biding his time, waiting for it to come back round full circle. Lately he’d heard rumblings that spoke of the man’s fall from favor, that there may even be a contract. The timing was perfect and although his intended victim was older now, almost too old for Jensen’s usual tastes, he was feeling almost reckless and eager for something different. And as he watched his prey stride confidently down the street like he owned it, Jensen knew this one would be special._

_Following the tall man, Jensen tracked him until he turned down an alleyway, and after a quick glance around confirmed their privacy, he turned in as well and called out. Although not as tall and muscular as his intended victim, he was no slacker in either department so he hunched over to appear smaller and less threatening. Green eyes glittering, Jensen approached the man, smiling disarmingly. Responding in kind, his prey allowed Jensen to get close enough that a few well-placed kicks and jabs had him incapacitated on the ground, his face frozen in shock and surprise at the ease of his fall. Quickly injecting the sedative, Jensen searched the man’s pockets and located his wallet. Flipping it open, he smiled as he confirmed, one Jared Tristan Padalecki, age 28, a little less than five years his junior. Reaching out, he ran his fingers through Jared’s long hair lingering only briefly before he stood up to get his truck. Soon, he’d have plenty of time and privacy to indulge in all the challenges and pleasures this man had to offer._

_Hours later, Jensen had driven them far from the city and deep into the desolate mountain range, his favorite hunting grounds. Dragging Jared to the usual spot, he wrapped the rope expertly around each wrist, before lashing them together and hitching the rope between the wrists before throwing it up over the overhanging branch. Drawing Jared up on his toes, he wound the end around the tree trunk and then proceeded with the highly anticipated task of stripping Jared from his clothes using his knife on the shirts before moving down to the lower body garments. Maybe Jared’s size enabled him to metabolize the sedative more quickly than Jensen expected, but he barely had him stripped before Jared’s leg lashed out and very nearly connected in bone-shattering force with his knee. Leaping back, he grinned. This was going to be good._

_A roundhouse kick of his own left a boot print bruise on the back of Jared’s thigh and pulled a sharp cry from him. As Jared panted through the pain, Jensen delivered another kick a little lower, to the back of his knee. He reveled in the second anguished cry released through Jared’s pinched lips. Walking around to face the younger man, he grinned and waited as Jared struggled to suck his sobs down, eyes glaring defiantly. Once the kid had himself under control, the floodgates opened and Jared let lose with a barrage of questions._

_“What the fuck? Who the hell are you? JD send you? What are you gonna do to me? Look, I got money, let me go, I’ll share it with ya. JD’ll never know.”_

_Jensen smirked as Jared’s plea ended on a plaintive note, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. The kicked puppy dog routine might work for him most times, too bad the kid didn’t realize just who he was dealing with and just how truly boned he really was. Minding the unbound legs, he approached Jared, and gently pushed his chin up, meeting those slanted hazel eyes with his own. Waiting for the moment when the kid thought he’d won, Jensen backhanded him. His head snapping back in surprise, Jared’s eyes narrowed right before he launched a wet glob of phlegm at Jensen._

_As his knee connected forcefully with Jared’s nether region, Jensen savored Jared’s almost silent groan, his face contorted in breathless agony and his legs lifting and clenching in their too late attempt to protect the sensitive balls. Wiping the spit from his face, Jensen backhanded him again. Watching the kid’s face carefully, he figured it was time to let him in on the game plan._

_“So, Jay-red, let me tell you what’s going to happen here. You got only one chance and that’s to kill me before I kill you. We’re so far from civilization, the only way outta here is my truck, parked about five miles south of here. You kill me, you get to pry the keys from my cold, dead fingers, use my phone and GPS your way home. But gotta tell ya, you’re number 42 and since I’m obviously unbeaten, your chances are pretty piss poor.”_

_Part of the fun is watching the play of emotions across the prey’s face – shock, disbelief, fear, despair – until finally, the prey begins to beg for his life. So this time, when a smirk turned Jared’s lips up and instead of begging, he heard soft laughter, Jensen was disappointed and… surprised. But when Jared lifted eyes, now devoid of any innocence and emotion, to stare at Jensen, his disappointment began to turn. And when Jared smirked and spit out “Bring it on, fucker,” Jensen felt positively giddy with excitement. Yes, this would be a hunt to remember._

_It’d taken nearly five hours but he’d finally run Jared to ground. He always fought fair on the hunt, always provided the prey with a knife in defense of his own and a headstart. Relying on years of experience, his tracking and hand-to-hand fighting skills were always enough to ensure his victory. Dodge in from the dark cover of the trees, sharp kick to a thigh, then back out, letting the prey back up and on the run again. Swing wide around to surprise the prey from the front, slice across the chest with his knife, deep enough to cause pain and draw a fair amount of blood, then back into the woods. A frontal assault, from the rear, drop from the trees, the prey never knew from where the attack would come. He could drag it out for hours, hitting, bruising, blooding, until finally the prey dropped in exhaustion, their body abused and weak, their throat raw from their screams. That’s when he would take the final toll on their body before a single bullet put them down for good, fair and square._

_Though with this one, he’d reconsidered his fairness doctrine, barely resisting the impulse to shoot the brat in an extremity or three just to be certain of the win. The kid had come close to turning the tables on him a few times, and Jensen had wounds of his own that would need tending before the night was out. But finally, Jared made a mistake (kids today, all bluster and no fucking finesse) and paid for it, his leg would be useless for days if he were to live beyond the night. Exhausted, bruised, bloodied, and thoroughly fucked, Jared knelt before Jensen defeated yet defiant to the end, his eyes refusing to look away. And as Jensen pressed the gun against Jared’s forehead, kill shot imminent, Jared surprised him yet again when his hands rose to wrap around his hunter’s and from his lips, “Just do it already, shithead,” was the only ‘plea’ that rasped forth. Pulling the gun back, Jensen knelt down to look in Jared’s almond shaped eyes, and saw… acceptance and something else that seemed almost, blissful._

_“Why?” Jared chuckled and answered with a serene smile._

_“Cuz I really don’t fucking care, and I sure as hell ain’t gonna give you any satisfaction by beggin’. That’s what gets your rocks off right? So you do whatever it is you’re gonna do… Me? I’m planning to haunt your ass all the way to mother-fucking Hell!”_

And that was five years ago, for the first time, Jensen didn’t kill his prey and Jared claims that as his first win (42 – 1, asshole). He’s still pretty far behind on their scorecard, and has jokingly said he’ll have to take Jensen out someday and then he could finally get ahead. And they both have no doubts on that score, ‘someday’ may have been said in jest but… Until that day comes, Jensen is still the master and the teacher. He knows Jared has needs, needs he helped Jared realize. Until he’d met Jensen, he knew he was missing something but had no idea what. Then Jensen made him feel, gave him pain and pleasure, and taught him the thrill of the hunt. And he knew that was part of it too, the risk that someday Jensen might decide to hunt him again, only this time, Jensen takes the kill-shot.

☼☼☼

“So I think tonight, I wanna film this. Want you to see yourself fall apart, how fucking hot you are. Want to see it over and over again.”

Jared throbs with anticipation as Jensen sets up the cameras, one near the head of the bed, the other off to side near the foot. He wasn’t sure if Jen wanted him naked or not yet so he just stands silent, waiting, as Jensen fine-tunes the camera’s angle. Finally satisfied, Jensen walks over to Jared, and pulls his head down, meeting his lips halfway. After an almost gentle kiss, he walks behind Jared and turns him to face the camera, “Strip,” his voice commands, “Slowly,” before he moves off to the side to watch.

Grinning, Jared begins to remove his clothing for the lens, popping button after button, letting the cloth slide slowly down his arms, stroking naked skin as he exposes inch after inch of lean, tanned skin. Until finally, he stands naked before Jensen and the cameras, proudly displaying himself. 

“Beautiful,” Jensen’s voice murmurs as he walks forward, and pushes him to his knees, guiding his head down towards his groin. “You know what to do.”

Eagerly, Jared nuzzles the hardening length of Jensen’s cock through the denim, opening his mouth to let his tongue and teeth stroke and nip with abandon. Once the denim is soaked through, he releases the button with his teeth than catches the zipper tongue and draws it down. Jensen’s cock springs forward, released from its confines, and Jared is quick to wrap his lips around the bulbous head. Running his tongue around and dipping into the slit, he enjoys the pleasure Jensen expresses in every soft moan he lets out, in the pre-cum that he tastes in his mouth. Opening his mouth further, he begins sliding up and down the shaft, slow then fast and back again, Jensen’s hands rewarding his efforts as his fingers stroke through Jared’s hair, the nails tingling in their path on his scalp. He can feel his own cock swell in his pleasure and the anticipation of what’s to come.

The camera picks up every sound, moans of pleasure, praises of ‘so good’, pleas for ‘more’ and ‘deeper, slurps of saliva and pre-cum that spill to the ground. It captures the obscene tableau in vivid, living color as the two men writhe against each other, the Master’s hips gyrating and pushing against his slave’s face his hands pulling him closer, forcing his cock deeper so that now gagging joins the sounds captured on the soundtrack. Suddenly, the slave is pushed away, so hard he collapses to the ground, gagging as he gasps to catch his breath.

Reaching down, the Master drags the slave by his hair towards the foot of the four poster bed. He’d already prepared for his chastisement, leather cuffs secured to the top of the two posts and waiting for the slave’s supplication. Wordlessly, the slave lifts one arm then the other as Master secures them to the posts. A light slap against the back of his left calf tells him that the ankle cuffs will be used tonight as well, spreading his legs and exposing every inch for whatever Master has planned. Once his legs are secured and spread uncomfortably wide, each arm is pulled up even tighter, cinching the leather straps shorter, until the slave is spread-eagled taut and wide, his weight now supported primarily by the two posts. He knows that there will be blood tonight and the pain excruciating, and at once he feels apprehensive, and yet exhilarated.

Behind him he hears rustling but he doesn’t dare look up, he keeps his head bowed and awaits for whatever Master deigns to give him. When Master speaks, it is practically at his ear, Master’s bare chest pressed against his back, the hard length of his arousal nesting on his crack.

“Your disobedience will be harshly dealt with, slave. Then, with the blood of your penitence dripping down your skin, you will further serve me.” Pushing away, Jensen almost tenderly strokes his fingers down the back he will soon mark anew, tracing over light scars from previous sessions. Seems a shame to mar such beauty, but his lover craves the pain. With some regret, Master turns away to pick up tonight’s instrument and flicks it a few times to remind himself of its heft, grinning at the camera. Turning back towards the man spread wide before him, he takes one last look at the bowed back, then pulls his arm back. 

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.” Jared cries out as he feels the first lash strike against his suddenly abandoned back. The multiple, near simultaneous strikes of leather tells him Jensen is using the Cat tonight. Oh yes, there would be blood.

“You will not speak, slave. Feel free to scream though.” Admiring the blooded lines of his first strike, the Master let loose with the next, low across his ass, enjoying the way the cheeks clench in pain. Over and over, the whip strikes, left to right, from neck to calves, the skin eventually breaking, blood spatter lightly spritzing the ceiling and walls from the swinging tips of the leather tails. The slave’s screams and groans soon join the chorus of leather strikes on bare flesh. Every so often, the Cat will swing the low and hard between the spread legs, the tips snapping his balls, his penis, his hole. It never ceases to amaze the Master the levels of pain that his slave craves and willingly endures. Even now, his arousal barely diminishes, the head throbbing red and angry, pre-cum dripping with increasing volume until suddenly he comes, his hips jerking fast, his scream soundless in his release.

The Master throws the whip to the ground, scoops up some of the slave’s come on two fingers, and then shoves them hard in the clenching hole forcing a whimper from the near unconscious. Slapping the raw ass, his fingers slide in and out as his slave pushes back and forth in tandem with the motions.

Please, Master.” The slave’s voice is wrecked and breathy but won’t be denied and Jared suddenly falls forward as Jensen activates the quick release on the wrist cuffs. Bent over at the waist, his legs still spread wide, Jared barely registers before Jensen’s cock is driving forward in one swift motion, bottoming out in seconds. Giving him bare moments to adjust, Jensen is moving, denim hitting raw, open wounds with painful intensity. Draped over Jared’s back, sweat stings as it mixes with the blood oozing from the welts left by the tails, his hips thrusting, violently driving towards his own orgasm. His hands dig into Jared’s bloodied shoulders as he pushes up, his hips still, and then a primal scream announces his own release as he collapses back across Jared. For a time, the only sounds on the soundtrack are the pants of the two men, Jared’s whimpers, then Jensen’s voice, “Well done, slave, all is forgiven.” Pushing off before walking over to switch each of the cameras off, the cameras’ last views are of Jensen, grotesquely painted in Jared’s blood from chest to thigh, his dick obscenely jutting out from the jeans opening.

Returning to Jared’s side, Jensen makes quick work of releasing his ankles before dragging Jared around for a deep kiss. Careful not to touch the wounded back, his hands softly stroke Jared’s flanks as the younger man leans into him. 

“C’mon, let’s get you in the shower.”

“Shit, you’re gonna have to toss those pants.” Jensen’s a macabre picture, Jared’s blood smeared in thick streaks down his chest and staining the top half of his jeans. Leaning over, Jared nuzzles a bloody nipple before licking a stripe down to Jensen’s belly button. Grinning, he captures his lover’s mouth, pushing deep, letting him taste the blood. When he’s done, both men have blood smears all around their lips and jaws. Laughing, Jensen gently pushes Jared towards the bathroom.

An hour later, Jensen’s cleaned up and Jared lies naked and uncovered on his stomach, an analgesic balm coating his back and ass. Loose and relaxed from Jensen’s tender care, or maybe it’s just the heavy duty sedative; either way he’s waiting for Jensen to finish setting up their movie. He knows that will likely lead to round two, hopefully Jensen will leave off his back this time.

☼☼☼

“Jay you sure you don’t want to take a sick day? I can drive myself in. No appointments outside today so you’d just be sitting around the office all day anyway.”

Jared winces, shaking his head, as he tries to tie a decent Windsor as each contortion of his arms re-ignites the burning in his back. Jensen sighs, “Stubborn ass,” and slaps Jared’s hands away from the offensive length of silk. Expertly tying the knot, he fixes the collar before moving lower, and squeezing bruised cheeks. Jared dances away cradling his abused ass.

“Dammit, Jen! Keep your fucking hands to your self! I swear, next time, we do this over a long weekend or we both take Monday off. Couldn’t we both call in sick today? Please?” Even though Jensen’s immune to the Puppy Eyes, he figures, what the hey, couldn’t hurt.

“Sorry Jay, got that staff meeting this afternoon so if you’re not calling in sick, get your ass in gear and drive.”

Somehow, Jared manages to get into the proper mindset by the time they reached the office, pulling into the parking spot designated for ‘J ACKLES’ with nary an outward sign of discomfort. Getting out, he opens the back door, letting Jensen precede him to the parking garage elevator. Always watchful, even though the death threats against Jensen and the attempted assassination a few years back were in fact engineered by the two of them, he takes quick note of their surroundings before following. He had to admit, Jensen was a master of manipulation, how else could he have gotten the city to put a known petty criminal on the payroll, ostensibly as Jensen’s bodyguard? So now, he carries a gun (legally, thank you very much City Council), drives a trendy sports car (also footed by the city), and lives in a big, fancy house (the mortgage paid for by the outrageous salaries the two of them pull in, again courtesy of the city). But they do have their enemies so due diligence is a very real necessity.

The elevator dings as they arrive on their floor, and Jared exits first holding the door, glancing in all directions before Jensen exits the elevator as well leading the way through the hallway to the Office of the District Attorney. Mindful of his role in their little play, Jared opens the main office door for Jensen and then trails behind him as Jensen greets the staff. 

It is a source of no small amusement for the two men, how popular and respected Jensen is with his peers and staff alike. The smile comes easily to him, so believably sincere and open, and his interest in their activities apparently genuine; no one would believe the type of extracurricular activities that he and now Jared engage in the dead of night. Of course, if anyone really paid attention to Jensen Ackles in court, they might catch a glimpse of the real man hidden behind the façade. A shrewd lawyer, vicious and unrelenting, his early successes as an ADA against the criminal element propelled him swiftly up the ladder. And when the District Attorney was killed in an ‘unfortunate’ accident four years previous, Jensen was promoted to the top spot by the City Council, without reservation or dissent.

For Jared, it had taken a couple years, the right clothes and attitude, and some polishing by Jensen, but now he puts on a pretty good front himself, his boyish charm putting all around him at ease. And those that know of his less than stellar, criminal history just mark it off to the misfortunes of a troubled youth that managed to drag himself up from dregs of society to finally make something of himself. A shining example of his own strength of character, and of the compassion and patience of the revered District Attorney.

Yes, they had the proverbial tiger by the tale, the city at their feet, and there wasn’t much that could rock them down from the top of their world.

☼☼☼

“Ackles.”

“Sir, this is Patrolman Simpson. We’re out at your house, the alarm company called it in when a silent was triggered and we’ve confirmed the break-in. They’ve cleared out now, but the house has been ransacked. Would it be possible for you to come out and identify what may have been taken?”

“Shit, I can’t tear lose right away, but I’ll send my bodyguard Jared Padalecki out to meet you. If the house is clear, just wait outside for him.”

Hanging up after receiving an assent from the officer, Jensen punched an internal line to Jared.

“Yes sir?”

“Get in here, Jay.”

Once the door was closed, Jensen explained the situation.

“The house was clean when we left this morning, and I doubt the panic room was disturbed. Someone would have to have really been looking to find it and from the sounds of it, they wouldn’t have had time. So get out there, make sure, file the report for anything you notice is missing, but keep the officers from getting too nosy. Give me a call back once you’ve assessed the situation. I’ll be in court this afternoon, so call me no later than noon.”

“Fuck, who’s got the balls to pull this?”

“We’ll figure it out, in the meantime, we’ll just have to minimize the damage.”

The second time the phone rang, just a couple hours later, Jensen had already received a very disturbing email. Although the video attachment allowed the subject to remain anonymous, just a shot of a man’s nearly nude, bloody torso approaching the lens before it clicked off, it was clearly from the video he’d taken just a few weeks earlier and the same one they’d just watched the night before. Damn, Jay was supposed to have put it away in the panic room. As thoughts of what he was going to do to his careless partner ran through his mind, he picked up, half hoping it would be Jared with his report, but not surprised when it wasn’t.

“Ackles.”

“Jensen Ackles, thanks for taking my I trust you received my email?” The low, gravely voice was unmistakable, he’d interrogated him on and off the stand often enough, and the man and his crime organization was a stain on an otherwise spotless record for his office. This was not good, not good at all.

“JD Morgan… Yes, I’ve been expecting you and whatever you think you can accomplish here is only going to get you taken down hard.”

“Maybe, but then again I’m not the one who should consider a career in the fetish film industry. I have the whole tape, gotta tell ya’ I think you could make a fortune… But I’m guessing you don’t want to make a career change, and I can make things very uncomfortable for you. I’m sure the Council would find it very interesting the type of activities you’re up to with your _bodyguard_? Probably put a whole new complexion on that golden boy image of yours.”

“Look, JD, cut to the chase. What do you want?”

“Nothing of any importance, really. At least judging by the performance I saw on those tapes. I’m sure you can find a suitable replacement for your needs… I just want Jared. He owes me and I’m sure you’ll agree, a man should pay his debts. Of course, if you don’t turn him over, I will post your little performance on You Tube as well as ensuring that every member of the City Council gets their own personal, digitized copy. You can be certain that once that happens, the shit-storm that comes from that isn’t going to be easy to wipe off. So do we have an understanding, Jen-sen?”

Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck. Jensen didn’t respond at first, running through the possible scenarios and outcomes in his head. Everything he’d worked and fought for, built up, hunted, all threatening to crash down because of Jared. The choice was simple. 

“When and where?”

“Good, I knew you’d see it my way.”

After getting the delivery instructions, Jensen slammed the phone down, his brow furrowed in annoyance. He’d always known that the kid’s stupidity would eventually come back to haunt him. Before the hunt, he’d known Jared worked for JD and the kid had even admitted stealing from his former employer, funds that were put to good use building their panic room. At first, he’d kept Jared under wraps, and then when he’d forced the city to let him hire a bodyguard, he was able to bring Jared out, insulated from Morgan by virtue of his position and the fact that Jay knew where too many bodies were buried, figuratively and literally. 

The first time Jared appeared in public as his driver/bodyguard was during the trial of JD Morgan’s lieutenant Chris Evans. Morgan was on the docket for cross-examination and he’d planned their flashy entrance for maximum effect. The roar of the Jaguar as Jared pulled into the DA’s reserved spot near the courthouse steps nearly drowned out the little impromptu press conference Morgan was holding. And the look on Morgan’s face when he recognized the lanky form pulling out of the driver’s seat, decked out in suit and tie, was one for the books. Jensen won that day, Evans put away for 10-25 years, Morgan’s off demeanor doing nothing to help his credibility, and his testimony had been shaky to begin with.

Since then, he and Morgan had faced off any number of times, both professionally and socially. They both knew that Jared was more to the other that just an employee, but just not the extent. And that was the détente that kept either from using Jared against the other. Jensen couldn’t use Jared to take down Morgan without Jared going down as well, and quite likely himself as collateral damage. And clearly Morgan still wanted Jared, but knew that if he tried anything, it was likely that what Jared knew had been well documented by Jensen, and would most certainly come out if he were to try anything against the two of them. So their cold war went on, looking for other chinks in their respective armor, that wouldn’t result in mutual assured destruction. And today, Morgan finally had the upper hand.

Somehow they’d made it through the day. Jared was back at the office in time to drive Jensen to court, reporting that some jewelry and electronics were missing. The damage to the rest of the property was extensive – broken and slashed furniture, smashed dishes and other baubles, shredded paintings – but nothing that couldn’t be replaced or done without. And the panic room was undisturbed. “Looked like someone with a vendetta,” Jared observed. Jensen only hmm’d in response. Neither mentioned the tape.

And that evening, as they stood in the ruins of their den considering the day’s events, Jared accepted the sedative-laced whiskey glancing at it briefly, hesitating, then returning his gaze to Jensen as he drank it down in one quick swallow. As Jensen sipped his own, it was with some regret he watched his lover stumble and grab onto the bar. Sighing, he put his half-empty glass down and then proceeded to pummel Jared to unconsciousness.

☼☼☼

Just two hours later, Jensen pulled into the deserted parking lot and drove round to the back of the address Morgan had given him. Leaving the truck parked near the entrance, he entered the warehouse and quickly found his target seated at a small desk, laptop open in front of him. Two non-descript hulking thugs flanked him, so similar in appearance he just termed them Things One and Two in his head 

“So glad you made it Jensen, I didn’t really want to have to follow through on my threats, glass houses and the like. Where’s JT?” Morgan rose to meet him, smirking his victory, and it rankled. But he needed the tape back so Jensen forced his gut reaction to lash out down and returned the smile instead. He also stood unresisting as Thing One patted him down and passed the confiscated 9 mil Beretta to his boss. 

“Gift wrapped, out in the back-end of the truck. He wasn’t all that thrilled about the plan, so I had to force the issue.”

JD motioned to his men before smiling back at Jensen.

“Not too damaged I hope?”

“No, he’s still basically intact. You should be able to have plenty of fun.”

“You’re welcome to join me. Seeing you in action, I suspect you might even be able to teach me a few tricks.”

“I hope you’ll understand if I pass, with our history, it’d be just… awkward.”

Morgan’s eyes swept down and then back up Jensen’s form, “Still, you sure you don’t want to reconsider a career in porn? I got connections, make sure we protect your ID with a mask or something, and maybe even let you play with JT once I’m tired of him - ”

Just then, a ruckus drew their attention towards the door where JD’s men were dragging in a bruised and struggling Jared. Naked but for the prison harness that secured his wrists in handcuffs to the front of his body and shackled his ankles in leg irons, his struggles and lashing kicks were desperate and uncoordinated.

“You sure know how to wrap, Ackles, that’s a right pretty package.” JD called over to Things One and Two, “He clean?”

“Yeah boss.” Thing Two leered, “Checked him over real good.”

“God damn you Ackles! What the fuck you do? You don’t know what he’s gonna do to me, ya asshole!” Jared lunged at Jensen who laughed as his lover and partner doubled over in pain from Thing One’s brutal punch to his gut.

Morgan chuckled, “Yeah, we had some good times didn’t we, baby boy? And now we get to rediscover them all over again.” Kneeling down, his hand reached out and grabbed Jared’s face, his thumb tracing a gentle line along a cheekbone before he let go and backhanded Jared as he stood and walked back to the desk.

The stricken expression of horror that erupted on Jared’s face left no doubt that only one of them was looking forward to renewing acquaintances. His pleading eyes found Jensen’s, “Please, Jen, you can’t, please don’t do this.”

“Sorry darlin’, already done. Your pea-brain probably hasn’t figured it out yet but the thing is, JD got a hold of that tape you stupidly left out this morning and you know I can’t afford the political fall-out if that got made public.” 

Bending down, Jensen grasped Jared’s face, squeezing the cheeks hard forcing his lips open. Slanting his lips, he took one last kiss before pushing the younger man back. “Now, you be good for these two nice gentlemen, Jay. I need to take care of my business with JD.”

Stricken, Jared stared at the man who’d taken him in and taught him so much, his soulful eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Jen, please...” His voice choked and wavered, as if he were speaking around gravel. But seeing no mercy in Jensen’s bland expression, he collapsed to the ground, curling in on himself.

“Damn, you’re one cold bastard.” JD stared at Jensen, a strained mixture of admiration and horror at the betrayal.

“Well, like you said, he’s easy enough to replace. Now, my tape? It’ll be nice to have something to remember him by… And while you’re at it, all the extra copies you made?”

“You really are a fuckin’ piece of work, Ackles. Just don’t get your panties in a bunch, got your tape right here. No copies, just the download on my laptop, hope you don’t mind?” JD leered as he palmed himself, “That show was a thing of beauty.”

“Actually, I do mind. And how do I know you haven’t uploaded this to the Internet already?”

“You’ll just have to trust me kiddo. But I’m a smart man, so I’ll tell you that this and mine are the only copies. Any computer network can be broken eventually and this, this is too good of insurance to accidentally lose to some hacker looking for a cheap thrill. I have a feeling you and I? We’re going to become best pals.”

Jensen studied the older man, and finally nodded.

“Okay, that’s good enough for me.”

Suddenly, their attention was drawn by the sounds of a scuffle behind them. Thing One was already down, clutching his crushed throat. And Thing Two dangled from Jared’s grasp kicking his feet helplessly before going limp as Jared broke his neck in a brutal twist. Dropping the dead man, a stomping foot to the neck completed the job on One, Jared turned around to JD and Jensen, grinning maniacally as he walked towards them.

As JD reached into his jacket for his gun, the sharp, cold edge of a knife across his throat stalled his action. “Your men are sloppy,” Jensen’s voice hissed in his ear as he slipped the gun from its holster. Shoving JD backwards to the chair, he spoke over his shoulder. “The kit’s in the truck, Jay.”

Jared snorted, crossing his arms across his chest, “I’m not your fucking errand boy.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one with the gun, so just go get the fucking kit and quit yer bitchin’. Oh, and Jay, there’s a pair of pants in there, put them on.”

“Fuck you, Jen,” Jared tossed back as he walked outside, “you’re not the one that got the shit beat out of him, you cock-sucker. And I swear I got a fucking hole in my cheek where you shoved that key in. Have to do it so mother-fuckin’ hard, asshole?”

“The kid always had a mouth on him,” Morgan observed shaking his head, before he turned back to Jensen, “so you really think you’re going to get this one over me?”

“Yep, pretty much. Already have.”

“You’re that sure I haven’t got another copy of that tape, are you kiddo?” Morgan leaned back in the chair, propping his foot up on the desk, “we’re just right back where we started, me minus two men, anyway but I’ll spot you them.” 

Just then Jared came back in the warehouse, dressed, and carrying their hunting kit which he handed off to Jensen, “You actually brought me clothes, dude. Wasn’t sure before if you really planned to turn me over to JD or not, but you brought clothes, I’m touched.” 

Next he strode over to stare down where JD sat complacent and confident in his superior bargaining position.

“This changes nothing baby boy, he’ll turn you over to me, he’s got no choice - ” 

Suddenly, Morgan finds himself crashing to the floor, as Jared’s hand smashes across his cheek. Before he can stand, Jensen is there, plunging the sedative-filled needle deep.

“Wrong, Morgan, I actually believe that this copy and the one on your laptop are it. You overplayed your hand, underestimated us, and I finessed your trump card. And if I’m wrong, well then we’ll deal with it. Don’t want to have to start over but I’ve done before, I can do it again.” And as JD Morgan drifted off to unconsciousness, Jensen and Jared carried on sanitizing the site with well-practiced expertise.

“So you up for a hunt this weekend, Jay? Bit older than the usual fare, but I’ll bet he’ll make up for it in street smarts. Should be a good one. ”

“Shit, yeah, and it’s a long weekend too. I get the kill-shot on this one, though, I call dibs.”

☼ FINIS ☼


End file.
